February 2019

There’s a boulevard. A boulevard where our dreams live. I catch it in the moonlight sky. The consolation of the nights stars map out our dreams. And the moon. The moon guides me to a plateau. A plateau of our love. Our hope. Our dreams. A streamlined reminder of what was there, but what isn’t to come. Of endless chances. A future that hasn’t quite made it to the end. The end of infinite possibilities. The stars aligned the night we met. In fact they wept. They wept because they knew. They knew that our dreams weren’t timeless. In fact they put a timer on our love and our infatuation, our feeling of boundless desire for one another’s future. Oh they wept. Because they knew that our love was pure, unaccountable for the treacherous deception that each would account for in the loss of something so great. Love should conquer all. But what if love is not enough? There is no answer, no comprehensible conclusion to make in such a circumstance. Because love should be enough. No matter how ones mind curls it’s way through each and every intelligible path there is no real answer. But what a wicked thing time must be. To really rip apart two souls whose magnetic force field is so fierce it bounds one to another. What can be done to conquer such a omniscient force? One can not wish upon those potent stars that light the volatile skies to unwind the element of time. We can not reverse the process of the world to give ourselves a love sooner or later. That is the cruelness of our planet, the cruelness of the concept of time which is encroached on our fragile minds. We are taught that certain milestones, certain boundaries, are right in order to live our lives in a righteous way. But what if they weren’t? What if time wasn’t a concept? What if this moon was still ours to keep? Ceaseless. Together.